


Where the Heart Is

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28309089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: For Nii
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84
Collections: Barson Secret Santa 2020





	Where the Heart Is

“Is it bad if I admit that sometimes I miss the days when he would nap in the afternoon?” Benson asked, pushing her hair back from her face as she surveyed the wreckage of the living room. She’d made an attempt to keep the wrapping paper and empty packages contained, but there were toys and new clothes and candy strewn from one side of the room to the other. 

Barba, sitting on the sofa, regarded her over the rim of his mug as he sipped his hot chocolate. He didn’t answer, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled in amusement.

“He’ll probably only be out an hour, if that,” she said, sighing tiredly as she sank onto the couch beside him. She glanced at the clock; it was barely past eleven a.m.. After an early morning of excitedly tearing into presents, and ingesting entirely too much sugar, Noah had crashed _hard_. He’d begged for hot cocoa but passed out on the floor before she’d finished making it.

So, she’d served a mug for Barba and one for herself and she’d carried her son—silently lamenting the fact that she could barely lift him, anymore, and soon he would be taller than her if he kept growing so quickly—into his bedroom.

Barba had come over for breakfast, at her insistence, and a gift exchange. After hours of playing with Noah and laughing at his antics, this was the first few minutes of quiet they’d had all morning.

“ _I_ need a nap,” she murmured, tipping her head back against the sofa and closing her eyes. She was still in her flannel Christmas pajamas, and she could easily drift off to sleep. At the sound of Barba's soft chuckle, she turned her head a little and opened one eye to peer at him. “You’re quiet today, everything alright?”

“Mm. Just absorbing all the excitement. Remembering what it was like to be a kid on Christmas morning.”

She turned her head a little further so she could see him with both eyes. “Was it like this when you were little?”

He looked into his cocoa for a few seconds. “Not really, no.”

“Me, either,” she said, and the corner of his lips tipped up in a small smile as he looked sideways at her. “I’m glad he can have this.”

“So am I. Noah got lucky when you found him.”

“I got lucky."

“That, too,” he agreed. 

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He sighed. “Feeling sorry for myself, I suppose.” 

“Missing your grandma?” she guessed gently.

“Among other things. My mother keeps herself busy these days.” He paused to consider his words before offering his admission: “Without you taking pity on me I’d have nowhere to go today.”

She nudged his leg with her knuckles. “You know it’s not pity. You’re always welcome here.” 

“If I hadn’t worked so hard—” He stopped and turned his head to look at her. “Sometimes I mourn the family I could’ve had. You know?”

“You don’t talk much about your childhood…”

“I don't mean that. No one gets to choose their parents. I mean...now,” he said, nodding toward the Christmas tree and toys. “I spent all my time and energy on my career, and where did that get me? Here, with no kids, no family, no one to—”

“No family?” she interrupted. “What are we, chopped liver?” He smiled dutifully, but she could see the sadness lingering in his eyes as he searched her face. “All morning you’ve been Uncle Rafa to a little boy who worships you.”

“He doesn’t,” Barba said, seeming surprised by the words.

“He does,” she countered quietly. “You can’t see it because you don’t think you deserve it. But he knows better. And so do I. If you want to get married or have kids or whatever, there’s still time. You’re not eighty.”

“I have plans with you that year.”

She smiled. “You have plans with me whenever you want.”

He regarded her in silence for long moments. He seemed to be gathering his courage. “Do you think I’d make a decent father?” he finally asked. “Be honest.”

“Decent?” She paused. “Rafael, if I could pick any person in this world to be a father to my son, who do you think I would choose?”

“Hopefully somebody rich, like Elon Musk—only less douchey.” 

“Funny.”

“But thank you. I love him, you know.”

“Elon Musk?”

“Noah’s the closest thing to a son I’ve ever—I’ll ever have, probably. Thank you for letting me be a part of his life, watch him grow up.”

“We love you, too.”

He swallowed. “Liv.” After a moment’s hesitation he reached over to set his mug on the coffee table before turning his body partway toward her on the sofa. “Can I…” He touched a tentative finger to her flannel sleeve and she saw his throat bob again. 

“Yes,” she answered even though he hadn’t managed his question. 

He leaned toward her, searching her eyes for signs of hesitance, and brushed his lips against hers. His palm found its way to her cheek, his fingers threading into her hair, and his mouth settled more firmly against hers. He licked tentatively at her lips and she opened herself to him without hesitation.

Barba made a small sound, shifting closer, his hand settling against the soft, warm flannel over her ribs. He could feel the curve of her breast.

Her fingers curled into the soft cotton of his sweater. 

The taste of her mouth was impossibly familiar. He’d wanted to kiss her for so long that he’d often worried he’d built the moment up in his mind so far that reality would never be able to compare. He’d worried that crossing that line between friends and lovers would feel awkward.

Instead, kissing her felt like finally coming home.

He pulled his lips from hers and rested their foreheads together, drawing a breath through his nose. He wanted to touch every inch of her, to let his hands and mouth roam the soft curves of her body, to feel the silk of her skin against his palms.

“I’ve screwed up every single thing in my life,” he whispered, lifting his head to meet her eyes. He stroked his thumb over her cheek, holding her gaze. “The thought of screwing this up, too, of losing you, it’s terrifying. But I can’t spend the rest of my life trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you.”

She cupped her hands to his face and kissed him. “You could never lose me. This is family, Rafael. _Real_ family.”

He settled back against the sofa and wrapped his arms around her, and she gave his lips another quick kiss before resting her cheek against his shoulder. She smiled when she felt him kiss her head. “Merry Christmas, Olivia,” he murmured into her hair.

She closed her eyes and snuggled against him, breathing in his familiar scent and letting his warmth surround her. “Merry Christmas, Rafa,” she sighed.


End file.
